


Family.

by CaramelKruze



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, But not all sad, Canon-Typical Violence, Dream Smp, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghostbur, Hurt/Comfort, Im gonna be honest its gonna start out with a lot of angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Tags May Change, sleepy bois inc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29284722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelKruze/pseuds/CaramelKruze
Summary: A collection of short stories about Philza, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy and their family dynamic with a few extra characters here and there.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. Justification. - Philza

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2 am  
> follow me on twitter where I post art sometimes @caramelkruze

As he looked on at the growing remains of L’manberg, Philza thought back on everything that led to this moment. 

_ ‘How could you do this?’  _ Someone had screamed as they saw him spawn another wither into existence. He laughed. L’manberg had only ever been synonymous with destruction and suffering, even since the beginning when Philza had first known it. 

When he first arrived, eager to see his sons again, he was forced to kill his eldest. Forced to watch as the child he raised to be a leader for his siblings destroyed the place he had worked so hard for. Forced to watch the colour drain from Wilbur’s face as he slowly bled out in his arms. It was that, or have him killed later by the crowd of justice hungry L’manberg citizens, and Phil figured this was the more peaceful option. 

He lost track of Tommy at some point, never could keep up with him, but he heard about the things that had happened to him. Despite everything that people said, Phil really did try. When he finally did get to see him again, it was a brief reprieve cut even shorter when he left with Techno one day, only for the older to come back alone. Techno was so quiet that week, more so than his usual. Philza understood Tommy’s decision to an extent, but it still stung to be left behind so quickly. He left them for L’manberg in the end. Philza hoped that nothing bad would happen to Tommy, even if he felt bitter about what had happened, he hoped that he would come out of this unscathed. 

The final breaking point though, was when they put him on house arrest. When they forced him to stand and watch as they dragged Techno to his execution. They tried to brutally kill another of his sons in front of him, and then they dared to ask him  _ why _ he would do this. They locked him into a front-row seat to his own son’s execution, and they asked him ‘why?’. He remembered the way that Techno had looked up at him, unafraid, but clearly seething. They were simply lucky that Techno survived what should have killed him, or Philza would have made this look like child's play in comparison to the hell he would have unleashed on L’manberg. Techno was the last son that seemed to care about Phil, and although he wasn’t one to pick favourites amongst his children, it was easy to care so deeply for those who felt the same. 

He stood at the top of a hill that overlooked all of L’manberg. Smoke billowed out from what remained of the buildings, and rocks were still falling into the growing ravine. The city that he had only ever known to bring pain was almost completely destroyed, and for the first time in weeks, Philza felt free. Wilbur had the right idea, looking back on it. It was kind of ironic, considering the Philza had helped rebuild everything here, only to now look on in satisfaction as it crumbled to the ground. To think that he had to kill his son for the very same thing he now took part in. 

“Phil… are you okay?” Techno asked tentatively. There was blood on his face, Phil noted, it was not his own. 

“I think I am now,” Philza said, turning to look one more time as the last bits of TNT rained from the sky; the contraption that Dream built finally running out of ammunition. He was telling the truth. Now, it felt like Phil could put the past behind him. Now, he could actually forget about everything that had happened and move on. 

Techno didn’t mention how he noticed how tear-stained Phil’s cheeks were, and Philza didn’t mention how Techno’s were much the same. 

“Let’s go home.” 


	2. Support. - Techno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno would always be there for Phil.

When Philza left them, Techno had understood. They were old enough to care for themselves, aside from Tommy, and whatever Phil had to do was important and dangerous enough that he had to leave them behind. Sure, he was sad to see him go for a while, but he understood that it was his job to stay behind and look after Tommy and Wilbur.  
They didn’t make it easy.

  
Wilbur, while the oldest by a year, was not exactly the leader that Philza had hoped he would be. Wilbur wasn’t completely to blame either though, it wasn’t like Techno did much either. Tommy was, ultimately, left to his own devices most of the time; and while that was how he preferred it to be, Techno wonders if things would have gone differently if Tommy had learned that people didn’t always have to do things alone. Wilbur had always valued independence, almost to a fault, and that inevitably bled into Tommy’s ideals. He looked up to Wilbur so much.

  
He had made many attempts to take Tommy under his wing, show him what it meant to be family, but time and time again, Tommy betrayed him. He couldn’t really bring himself to be mad at him either. It wasn’t his fault for finding value in things that were constant and doing anything he could to keep them. His family wasn’t constant like those discs. Philza left, and when Philza finally came home, Wilbur left too. Even Techno left at some point.

  
Techno understood why everyone did what they did, but he didn’t have to like it. He didn’t have to be okay with it. He was allowed to be upset. He was allowed to feel angry.

  
When Philza came home to his sons, one now an exiled war-criminal, one he had been forced to kill, and the last one who had clearly given up on the idea of family, of course, he felt horrible. He had told Techno as such one night as they began building a new home for themselves. Techno had tried to comfort him the best he could, but in full honesty, he was glad that Phil felt bad in a way. It justified Techno feeling like he had been let down by his father. He forgave him, of course, he could see that Phil was genuinely sorry. There was a permanent reminder of his failures on his back after all; his wings tattered and scarred from his attempt to shield Wilbur from his own undoing. Techno saw how he would look at them sometimes when they passed by the water. He would see Phil’s smile fade so quickly as he caught a glimpse of his reflection, falling silent as he looked away just as fast. He knew Philza missed flying too, but it was more than that.

  
When Techno told Philza about the voices that near constantly begged for violence and blood, Philza looked at him the same as he always did. That same caring and understanding look, a little worried, but he wasn’t scared of him like Techno had thought he might be. In fact, he admitted that he had the same problem, granted his were far less violent. He helped Techno calm down when the voices got too much, and Techno was glad to finally have a father again.

  
Philza’s voices were unforgiving.

  
He remembered finding him one morning, head in his hands, kneeling in the snow as the sun rose on the horizon. He was shaking, silent sobs raking through his cold body. His eyes were distant, and Techno assumed he looked much the same when his voices got bad.

  
When he finally got Philza back into the house, he was quiet for a long time. He wasn’t crying anymore, but he still looked upset.

  
“They say I’m a terrible father,” Phil explained quietly. Techno hadn’t asked, he didn’t want to force Phil to talk about it. “The voices. They said I didn’t do enough. I know. I’m sorry, Techno. I really am. I should have been there for you guys.” When Techno turned around to look at him again, he noticed that Phil, while more present than he had been, had started crying again. “I could have done more. I could have- if I had just been there for you guys- Wilbur would still be here-.” Techno walked over to him, he was never good with comforting people, so he settled for what Phil had always done for him when he was young and embraced him.

  
“You can’t change it now.” That was all Techno could say. He wasn’t going to say that Phil wasn’t a bad father, because in the end there were a lot of things that Philza could have done differently, but that wasn’t to say that he couldn’t do better now. They fell into a comfortable silence then. Techno stood holding Phil for as long as he needed.  
Phil might not have been there for Techno when he needed it, but Techno would be there for Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how many parts this is going to be in total, but I have two more of these finished and ready to post soon.


	3. Promises. - Wilbur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur was never fond of promises. They were too easy to make and so easy to break.

“It’s okay, Phil.” Wilbur said into Phil’s coat. The initial pain had mostly faded now, that or the shock of having a sword shoved into your stomach was enough to completely numb him. He could feel Philza’s tears quickly seeping into his shoulder. Why was he crying? He shouldn’t be crying for him. 

“It’s okay,” Wil repeated. He brought his hand up and set it on Philza’s head. 

_ “It’s okay, Wil,” Philza said softly. Wilbur sniffled again and wiped his eyes. He was crying about something again, as he so often did. He was young and emotions were difficult, but just like every time before then, Philza was there to hold him and wipe away his tears.  _

Philza wanted to say something. He tried, but every time he opened his mouth, the only sounds that came out were choked sobs. 

_ Wilbur awoke with a start, eyes bleary and his head pounding. He hated nightmares. He had thought maybe he had outgrown them, but even at twelve he still seemed to fall victim to them at least once a month. He realized he was crying, and did his best to try to calm down.  _

_ There was a soft knock on his door, and a moment later it opened to reveal Philza, face dimly lit by the candle he held in his hand.  _

_ “Can I come in?”  _

_ Wilbur didn’t answer but held out his arms. Philza made his way to the bed, and after setting the candle down on the nightstand, he hugged Wilbur like he always did when he woke up from a nightmare. His wings wrapped protectively around him, making sure Wilbur felt completely and utterly safe. He hummed softly, a low melody that Wilbur had come to recognize. It was the same song Philza would hum and sing to him when he was much younger. The same song he sang and hummed to Tommy and Techno on occasion.  _

_ “I’ll always keep you safe, Wilbur, I promise. There’s nothing to be scared of.” Philza said.  _

Wilbur didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret anything. This was just the way he planned it. 

He could feel himself getting weaker. Surely there wasn’t much longer he had left. He started to hum softly, and Phil finally lifted his head to look at him. 

_ “Promise you’ll be safe,” Wilbur said, as he handed Phil his bag.  _

_ “Of course I’ll be safe. Make sure you look after your brothers for me. Keep them safe, and make sure they stay out of trouble. I trust you, Wil. When I come home, I’ll tell you all the stories about everything that I did.”  _

_ Wilbur watched as Phil took off into the sky.  _

“Will you visit me after?… and tell me the stories?” Wilbur smiled. His mouth tasted of copper. 

Philza was still crying, but he finally managed to speak. 

“Of course, Wil. Of course.” Philza tried his best to smile, and Wilbur gave a weak laugh. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” 

Wilbur could hear the soft humming as he finally drifted off. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie to you, this one actually made me sad while writing it.


	4. Constant. - Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It made sense to care more about the things in your life that actually stuck around.

Tommy always held a sort of anger towards Philza. Perhaps, not anger, but closer to frustration, or indifference.

  
When Philza left, he left Wilbur, Techno and Tommy alone. And while they were old enough to take care of themselves, they weren’t old enough to truly be on their own. They needed that guidance, and when Phil left there was nowhere to get that guidance from. They had to rely on each other, and each other only. That was well enough, and they did pretty good, all things considered; but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loneliness growing up.

Techno had always preferred Phil’s company over his siblings, and Wilbur frequently grew too frustrated with Tommy to actually put up with him for long. That was why Tommy learned to value independence very early on because he needed to.

  
He took pride in being able to take care of himself, and even though he missed having a family he could fall back on, it was nice to be able to do something on your own and say that you did it.

  
Maybe it was because Phil was so much closer with the eldest sons. Maybe it was because he was younger and just didn’t have the time to develop such a close relationship with him; but the longer time went on, the more Tommy realized that he didn’t actually miss Phil that much. He spent more and more time away from his siblings, and more and more time alone.

When Phil finally came back, Tommy barely spoke to him. He didn’t need to, and he didn’t want to. He knew he killed Wilbur, and to him, it didn’t matter if that was the right thing to do or not, it was wrong. Granted, Wilbur wasn’t completely gone. Ghostbur, as he chose to be called, was still there; and although he wasn’t exactly the Wilbur Tommy remembered, he was still his brother in a way.

  
Ghostbur was Tommy’s only companion for a time. When Tommy was exiled, very few people actually came to visit him. Not even Philza.

  
There was a period though when he stayed with Techno and Philza. He almost allowed himself to feel at home there, but that feeling was short-lived. In the end, Tommy knew it wouldn’t last. That was why he picked the discs. He knew Techno would be upset, but what did he owe Techno? Techno stuck with Tommy so long as it benefited him. Tommy decided to do the same. The discs, at least, wouldn’t be so quick to leave him.

What really sealed Tommy’s opinion though, was when he watched Philza help destroy L’manberg. When he watched as Philza summoned wither after wither to destroy everything alongside the Dream. Dream, the man who had manipulated him, abused him and taunted him for weeks on end. His own father was helping this man cause even more destruction. His father was helping him to destroy the place that Tommy had been fighting so hard to return to, and he knew it too.

He remembered staring at Philza, who barely spared him a second glance.  
That was when he decided that Philza wasn’t his father.  
A father wouldn’t do that to his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not as good at writing for Tommy so might not be a lot of Tommy centric chapters but I'll try my best :]


	5. Feathers and Stars. - Philza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philza remembers what it was like to fly.   
> Techno remembers the stars.

It was strange to be shackled to the land when you had called the sky home for your whole life. 

Ever since Philza had been a child, he had been in love with the sky and the way the wind would move through each of his feathers, how it would leave his hair permanently windswept. He always thought he belonged in the sky, constantly moving, and always exploring. Even his children hadn’t changed that. He would carry them with him while he flew, having to share the most freeing feeling in the world with them because they were not born with wings like his own. He always found it endearing when Wilbur would always beg him to take him flying every chance he got. It was the only way to get him to sleep sometimes. 

So when Philza lost his wings, he had to completely change his way of living. He could no longer just fly his way out of danger, and travel was far more exhausting and he was constantly reminded of that. The phantom pains may have been the worst part of it. Not only were they excruciating, but they were also a painful reminder of what he used to have. 

Before he was completely used to being trapped on the ground, Techno would see him attempt to glide from a ledge or a ladder, only for him to stop and catch himself quickly enough to avoid too serious of an injury. He hated the way Techno would look at him sometimes. He knew he meant well, but humble as he was Phil was also prideful, and the pitiful glances that Techno would turn his way did nothing to help that. He wanted to still be seen as a protector. Losing his wings did not leave him incompetent and inept. He could still easily cut down a horde of monsters if given the opportunity. 

But looking on in pity, he supposed, was better than indifference. 

At least Techno cared about him. 

“You alright?” Techno asked, sitting down beside Philza on the roof. 

It was dark, and the glow from the moon above and torchlights below cast an ethereal glow onto Phil’s face. With his wings, he could’ve almost looked angelic. 

“I miss it.” Phil sighed. 

Techno hummed in acknowledgement. There wasn’t much he could actually do to comfort him. Techno never saw the appeal of the sky as much as his brothers and was the only one out of the three that was thankful they never had wings. 

“Do you remember what it was like to fly, Techno? When I would carry you and fly over the fields?” 

Techno did remember. He never liked flying up high as Wilbur did. He would only agree to fly if Phiza promised to only glide not too far from the ground. He remembers the fields in autumn and colourful the valley would look as it passed by so quickly. 

“I remember.” A silence fell over them as Philza continued to stare up into the sky, eyes glassy and distant. 

“I remember when you showed all the constellations more though,” Techno said as he looked up. 

Phil finally turned from the sky to look at Techno.

“You told me each one of them and what they meant. How each star had a story. Told me which ones would always be there for me to guide me home.” Techno smiled at the stars that littered the sky. He had told himself the stories over and over again when he was a child. Even now, sometimes he would find himself thinking about Callisto and her son who were immortalized in the cosmos, or one of the other many stories Philza had told him. The stars had saved him from wandering the forests for days before and would continue to do so countless more times. “When you were gone, I would look up at the sky sometimes and wonder if the stars looked the same where you were, I wondered if there were stories about stars far beyond the horizon.” 

Phil was smiling. Techno loved the stars when he was a child, and Phil was glad to see that passion didn’t leave him as he aged. 

“The thing I always liked about the stars the most though, Phil, was that no matter how close you tried to get, they would always look the same. You could never fly to get closer to them, the mysteries of the stars would stay as such because they were elusive. They were something beautiful that you could see all the same from the ground.” 

Phil could feel the tears falling down his cheeks, the northern cold making them the slightest bit uncomfortable. 

“Thanks, mate.” 

“Don’t stay out here too long, you’ll get cold,” was all Techno replied as he carefully made his way back down from the roof and into the house. 

Philza stared at the sky for a moment longer, before making his way off the roof as well. 

Phil realized that maybe losing his wings was good for him in a way. The sky was awfully lonely when there was no one to share it with. Truly, the ground wouldn’t be so bad when it meant that he would finally bring him closer to his sons. Flight was where he could find freedom, but the ground was where he would always find family, and in the end, that was what mattered to Phil. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for reading :] I'm on twitter too @CaramelKruze 
> 
> Not sure who or what the next chapter will be about yet, but will maybe be up within the next week or so :)


	6. Guitar Strings. - Techno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A home that was once full of mirth and laughter falls silent; now a house of dusty guitar strings and isolation.

Techno could remember when Wilbur had first started learning guitar. It didn’t take him long to get good at it. He would sit in front of the fireplace while Techno sat on the couch behind him, Philza would stand in the kitchen watching over them with a smile, holding Tommy who was fast asleep. It was like the whole world would stop and fall into silence to listen to Wilbur the moment he started to play, and Techno completely understood why. 

Wilbur’s singing was soft and comfortable. 

He tried to teach Techno how to play the guitar. He wasn’t as good at it, but Wilbur was patient, and it was a nice change to be learning something so gentle in comparison to the weapons training he did daily. He taught Tommy to sing too. They would both sing some nights, and Techno missed seeing the way Phil’s eyes would glow with pride and affection when they did. 

He sang even when Philza left. Every night, the three of the children gathered in front of the fireplace as they had before, and listened to Wilbur play guitar and sing. 

But when Philza didn’t come back when he said he would, Wilbur started singing less and less. 

Techno would still sit at the couch in front of the fireplace each night, but more and more often he would find himself sitting alone until eventually, that became the new normal. Wilbur’s guitar steadily began to collect dust in its spot beside the hearth, and the house fell into a state of almost permanent silence. Wilbur and Tommy eventually left too, giving Techno their sudden goodbyes moments before walking out the door. They never said when they would be back, and they didn’t give Techno the time to convince them to stay.

The house had never been quieter. 

Techno never left. He still sat in front of the fireplace every night, but he could never bring himself to pick up the guitar that Wilbur had made for him. It didn’t feel right to fill the empty house with such noise. He kept up the house while Phil was away, and part of him hoped that one day Wilbur and Tommy would come back through the door and he would get to welcome them home. 

They never did. 

* * *

Phil came back eventually. Finally gliding down from the sky and getting a chance to rest his tired wings. When he opened the door, he realized very quickly that the house was empty, and he had never felt his stomach sink faster. 

Time was always difficult for him, he knew he had been longer than he had intended, but certainly not so long that they would have left. 

It felt so cold in the house. It was never so cold before. Wilbur hated the cold. 

He looked around for some sort of indication that his assumptions were wrong. Maybe they had all gone out for a little bit and would be back soon. There was probably a note somewhere reassuring Philza that they were fine and that they would be back soon. 

There was a note. It was on the kitchen counter, written in cursive but very dusty. It was Techno’s writing that much was clear, but the dust on it showed that it had been written far before Phil had even gotten halfway close to home.   
  


_'Philza,_

_When you read this, I will likely be far from home. Wilbur and Tommy left long_ _before I did._

_I_ _couldn’t keep waiting._

_I’m not sure where I’m going, but I’m sure we will meet again eventually._

_Until then,_

_Techno.'_

Phil felt the guilt set in the pit of his stomach. He did a quick walkthrough of the house, hoping that somehow he would come back out to the living room and see all three of them sitting there in front of the fireplace once again. 

He went back out the door, and took off into the air again, wings still sore from flying home, but determined to find his sons again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thanks for reading!  
> If you enjoy this so far please let me know! Comments make my day and I love to hear what people think. After todays stream I have a lot of ideas, some of those being new works so keep an eye out for those if you're interested.  
> As always, you can find me on twitter @CaramelKruze where I also post art (mostly dsmp fanart)!


	7. Blue. - Wilbur (Ghostbur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If blue hadn’t already been one of his favourite colours, these flowers could have convinced him right then. He plucked one from the ground and held the delicate petals between his fingers. That was when he noticed how pale he was. Not just pale either, but he swore he could almost see through his hand completely. 
> 
> Oh.

When Wilbur opened his eyes, he was confused, to say the least. He wasn’t sure where he was, and even more confused about how he got there. 

Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above and it gave the forest Wilbur had found himself in a very welcoming glow. Looking around, he could see that surrounding him where he sat on the soft earth, was a patch of blue orchids. The vibrant blue of the petals almost emanating an ethereal glow. If blue hadn’t already been one of his favourite colours, these flowers could have convinced him right then. He plucked one from the ground and held the delicate petals between his fingers. That was when he noticed how pale he was. Not just pale either, but he swore he could almost see through his hand completely. 

_ Oh.  _

Suddenly, Wilbur could hear distant explosions. Could hear his own voice ringing in his ears, begging someone to kill him. The fact that his heart wasn’t pounding at the moment only made him panic even more.  _ He was dead _ . His chest heaved as he took staggering breaths that he no longer needed. If he was dead why did his chest feel so tight?  _ Could ghosts cry? Was he even a ghost? Where was he? _

It was the sight of the blue flower in his hand that brought him out of the frenzy he had fallen into. The petals had been mostly crushed when Wilbur unknowingly clenched his fists, and they left a bright blue dye on his palm. Wilbur focused on that. 

If he was dead then it didn’t matter. What happened before didn’t matter, and he didn’t need to think about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He  _ wouldn’t  _ think about it. If he told himself that he didn’t remember it, then maybe eventually that would be a reality. He could remember the good things. The good things like… like Philza taking him flying when he was younger, or when Techno had gone with him to a meadow near their home and had told him what each flower was and what they meant, or even when he taught Tommy how to craft little boats out of paper. Those small happy moments would be what he remembered. He would remember Fundy and how excited he was that one time they visited the beach looking for shells. He would remember L’manberg; the good times he had there, what it was before… 

As he stared at his blue-stained hands, he felt himself smile again. 

He slowly got to his feet after gathering a few more handfuls of those bright blue orchids. He wasn’t sure where he was exactly, but he figured that if he wondered for a while he could find something, and if not, maybe more flowers like these ones. He always regretted not taking the time to appreciate the small beauties of nature, and he figured that now was as good of a time as any to start. 

* * *

Wilbur quickly realized a lot of things as he walked constantly. One, he couldn’t touch water. That wasn’t too big of a deal, but it did make travelling a bit more of a pain in the incorporeal ass. Two, he was still ‘home’. He had started to recognize much of the land from his travels from when he was alive, which made it very easy to eventually find L’manberg as well. It had taken about two weeks, or at least Wilbur thought it was two weeks; time was such a strange concept when you were dead. It looked so much different than how he had left it. It was a city on stilts now, and while he didn’t know what had happened to force them to rebuild the city as such, they had done a wonderful job. 

When he finally made it to the city it was dark. Wilbur was thankful to have found it just after sunset because despite not being a physical entity, mobs still had the tendency to flock to him. He figured it must have had something to do with being undead because they would never try to hurt him, but he hated it nonetheless. 

There were now lanterns that hung over the city and cast soft golden streaks of light over the wooden boardwalks that had been built into the walls of the small crater that had formed since Wilbur was gone. It was beautiful. 

He ended up at the docks, the nearly serene water reflecting the light from the lanterns and the moon. The sky was so clear that Wilbur swore he could see each and every star in the sky. Techno loved the stars, Wilbur remembered, often staying out well into the night to stare at them and take in each constellation. 

The rest of the city was quiet, as was the norm at this time of night. Wilbur sat at the edge of the dock until the sun made its appearance over the horizon, the stars slowly fading away into the lilac sky. 

The city came alive then; people made their way out of their houses, greeting each other as they did so. The smell of freshly baked bread began to fill the air, and the small market filled with people talking and laughing. Wilbur recognized a lot of them, many of them his friends once. Would they be happy to see him?  _ Could _ they see him?

His answer came shortly when he passed by Niki, who paid him absolutely no attention. It was like he wasn’t there at all, and to her, that was completely the case. Wilbur felt his heart sink for a moment and he instinctively rubbed a small blue petal between his fingers, coating his hand in a fresh coat of bright blue. 

He had picked up the habit shortly after he woke up in that forest. He started to associate the blue that stained his hands with happy things, happy memories, anything that could make him forget what Wilbur had done when he was alive. He wasn’t  _ that _ Wilbur anymore, that Wilbur was dead and gone. His hands were almost always blue now, stained from the constant crushing of blue petals along with the fact that Wilbur couldn’t actually wash his hands given his reaction to water. He liked it that way anyways though, so he didn’t mind. 

“Niki?” Wilbur said quietly, not actually expecting an answer or acknowledgment. 

Niki’s face went pale and she quickly turned around like she was looking for something. When she didn’t see anything, she let out a heavy breath and shook her head sadly. That gave Wilbur enough hope to think that there was a possibility that people could still interact with him. Obviously, Niki had heard him, at least a little bit. 

He made his way back up to the house he had seen last night. 

It was a tall house, two stories tall with a balcony. It looked incredibly cozy, and Wilbur had found himself drawn to it before he even knew who lived within. 

Just beside the solid oak door, was a plaque that read “Philza M.” Wilbur grabbed the handle and turned it. It wasn’t locked, and he made his way into the house quietly. There was a chance that Philza wasn’t here, but it was worth a shot. 

Wilbur could hear humming coming from the kitchen, and if he had a heart that beat he knows it would have absolutely swelled at the sound. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face as he made his way closer and closer to the small kitchen. 

Philza had his back to him, he was stirring something in a mug on the counter. Staring at his back, Wilbur noticed that something about him had changed, something big, but his mind quickly pushed the thought away. 

“Phil?” 

Wilbur heard the spoon Phil had been holding clink as he dropped it into the mug completely. His shoulders tensed, and he could see him start to slowly shake his head and breath heavily. Wilbur hadn’t seen Phil cry often, many of the memories of when he did had faded as he chose happier ones to replace them. Phil took a steadying breath and slowly turned around, eyes closed, unsure of what he wanted to see when he would open them. 

Wilbur smiled at him as he opened his teary eyes. Unlike when Niki had turned towards him, Phil didn’t look past him. Phil could see him. 

“Wil,” Phil said through a sob. This had to be some cruel phantom brought on by guilt, he thought as Wilbur moved closer to him. Phil didn’t move, worried that if he did Wilbur would vanish in a second. “Wil, I’m so sorry,” he choked out. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. 

“Don’t be sorry, don’t cry, here, have some blue,” Wilbur said as he gently grabbed Phil’s hand and placed one of the many small blue flowers he collected. His fingertips left a trail of blue along Phil’s palm. 

Suddenly, Wilbur felt Phil’s arms wrap around him, and he was pulled into a tight hug. Philza’s shoulders still shaking as he sobbed into his son's shoulder. It didn’t matter if this was real anymore, if it meant that Phil got another chance to hug his son, then he would gladly take it. Wilbur understood why Phil would be sad, if Wil was still here then why be sad? Regardless, he waited for Phil to stop crying and finally let him go. 

“Why are you here, Wil?” Phil sounded so exhausted and it confused Wilbur for a moment. 

“To visit you. I woke up in a forest a few weeks ago and now I’m back.” Wilbur was smiling, but it fell slightly when he realized that Phil was not doing the same. “Why do you ask? Did you not want to see me again?” 

“No! No, it's not that, it's just…” Phil sighed, looking back at the flower Wilbur had given him. “You’re dead. You’re dead but you’re here now, and… Wilbur, you did some awful things before you-… before I-… you know…” Phil’s hands were still shaking a little. 

Wilbur’s smile fell completely and his stomach dropped. He didn’t know what Phil had meant by that. “What? Phil, don’t be silly. I haven’t done anything, I’ve only just got here.” Wilbur had started wandering around the small kitchen, looking at the flowers that grew outside the kitchen window and the collection of small trinkets that littered the bookshelf. 

Phil stared at him, expression unreadable. He looked at Wilbur’s hands which had begun to nervously pull at more blue petals again. “Wilbur… What do you remember from when you were alive? Do you remember anything?” Phil wasn’t sure how ready he was to simply forget what Wilbur had done, but if even he didn’t remember it, then it made the whole thing so much more difficult. He was his son, yes, but he had also blown up an entire city. He had betrayed all of his friends. He had hurt so many people. Wilbur turned back to Phil again, and he looked so happy that Phil felt bad for him. 

“I remember a lot of things! I remember you, Tommy, Techno, and all the others, building L’manberg... Phil, why do you look upset?” Wilbur stopped talking and looked away again. He was staring at his hands, freshly stained blue. He didn’t want to look at Philza. He didn’t like how his expression made him feel guilty for some reason he didn’t understand. 

“Wilbur… Wilbur, you hurt a lot of people, Wil, me included. Wilbur, I had to kill you, I was the one that had to kill you Wil. You don’t remember any of that? You don’t remember blowing up L’manberg? You don’t remember betraying everyone? You destroyed everything. Tommy-” 

“Stop! Stop, please!” Wilbur shouted. A heavy silence grew between the two of them, the kitchen quickly growing far less welcoming than it had been mere minutes ago. “That wasn’t me, Phil. That wasn’t me, that was alive Wilbur. Alive Wilbur did those things, Phil, not me. I would never hurt anyone. I would never hurt you, or Techno, or Tommy, anyone!” Wilbur hated being upset. Hated the way his chest would tighten and the way his lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough of the air that he didn’t even need anymore. He just wanted to be happy. He wanted to exist now without the burden of that past Wilbur’s mistakes. He could feel tears starting to fall down his face, and quickly rubbed them away. He forced himself to smile. “Phil, I am not Wilbur; or at least I’m not  _ that _ Wilbur. Please, just… I know that Alivebur did some horrible things, I know you might be mad or upset with him, but please don’t hate me because of him. Please, Phil.” Wilbur did his best to keep his voice steady as he spoke, looking back up at Phil when he finished. 

Phil didn’t say anything for a while, and Wilbur was almost worried that he was going to tell him to leave. Would tell him that he never wanted to see him again or that he never should have come back here in the first place. But that wasn’t like Phil to do that. 

Phil couldn't bring himself to be upset with Wilbur. In the end, Wilbur was right. While he should take responsibility for what had happened, he couldn’t change anything. It wasn’t like making Wil feel bad was going to bring him back or change what he had happened. Phil had never liked seeing his sons cry, and seeing Wilbur cry because of him now was enough to make Philza never want to bring up ‘Alivebur’ again. 

“I don’t hate you, Wil. I could never hate you.” Phil walked past him towards the small kitchen table and grabbed his coat that hung on the back of a chair, putting it on. “How about I show you around L’manberg now, you can see all of the new additions to it since you’ve been gone.” 

“I would like that.” Wilbur smiled again, the memory of the argument he had just had quickly fading away to be replaced with the happier one of finding Phil again. “Thank you, Phil.” 

As the two of them left the house, Wilbur felt at ease again. Hopefully, he would be able to find more people who could actually see him, and even if he couldn’t he could always find other ways to talk to them. For now, he would wander around the new L’manberg, and make new, happier memories. He had moved past the things that Alivebur had done, and now he would only be worried about what Ghostbur would do. 

And when Philza started noticing the bright blue handprints and flower petals that began to show up all around the city, he couldn’t help but smile each time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I published this one on its own too just because its a lot longer than the others. Might do more long chapters if I get really inspired, who knows. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


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